Tell Me the Truth
by lovelynoise
Summary: Remus Lupin has a time turner and gets an idea. He's going to kill Tom Riddle before he turns into Voldemort. But then he meets Marv.
1. Chapter 1

**1**

Merlin! Where was he? People were screaming, crying … it sounded like a war zone. Had he been mistaken, switched the time turner too many times? No, he had been sure, calculated everything down to the last minute. This had to be it.

Remus tucked the turner inside the shirt and tried to cover a yawn. It had been a full moon two nights before, and he was still all worn out, though he'd never admit it. And he certainly had no time to be tired now, that was way too risky.

He could see how the trees around him made room for a meadow further ahead, but somehow the light from the sun was blocked out. What was going on?

They looked like a big bee swarm, and all the audience made sure it sounded like one too. The players swirled in the sky, not as fast as James or Sirius, but at least as good, if not better. He kind of sort of wished he'd told them about this. But would they have believed him?

"Hey, Padfoot, Prongs, guess what? Yeah, my son just gave me a visit. Um, no, I know I don't even have a girlfriend …" Not likely. Not very wise either. What if they decided he was as loony as Sniv- that Snape kid? What if next time it be him hanging upside down? No, probably smarter to keep that sort of thing to himself. And it was definitely smarter not to have Wormtail tagging along. Peter would just end up in trouble, or give them away. No, Remus was better off alone, for sure.

He went closer, but all he could see were backs. About a million of them. A million dress robes in every colour ever invented. Like someone had eaten a whole bag of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans and then hurled it all up again.

"Um, 'scuse me, sorry, 'scuse me …" He made his way through the crowd, feeling like someone'd used an ironing spell on him. He was skinny enough as it was, thank you very much.

He wasn't even really sure who – or what – he was looking for. The only image he had seen of the One Who Must Not Be Named was in the Prophet, and You Know Who'd probably look nothing like that this early. If he did, Remus probably wouldn't be the one looking, at least. Not very easy to hide when you're pale as a vampire and have the features of a snake. He'd tried to ask some of the teachers, but they'd all just shrugged and pretended they didn't hear him. The only thing he'd been able to find out was the first name … Tom.

Maybe he'd better wait for the game to finish. It would be impossible to find anyone in this crowd, unless he used some kind of spell. But he couldn't be sure that You-know-who wouldn't notice. And after all, it wasn't too many his age who could say they'd seen the world cup back in 1942.

"This seat taken?" he asked a lean, good-looking kid sitting alone on a bench. The boy gave him a scrutinizing look before he answered.

"No. Take a seat", he said, as if it was he who owned the whole place. He probably still was at Hogwarts. Must be in Slytherin. Maybe he'd know this 'Tom'.

"Thanks", he said. "I'm Remus, by the way."

"Marv", he introduced himself. "Where are you from?" he demanded to know.

"Henly-on-Thames, England", Remus answered automatically.

"Really?" the boy said and stared at him with dark brown eyes. "Then you must go to Hogwarts? I've never seen you there."

Remus realised his mistake. "No, actually, I don't. I …" Bugger, why didn't they talk more about other schools in class? This kid would definitely know if he were making things up.

"Oh, you already graduated? You don't look 17."

Remus was a little bit offended, but not surprised. Not many believed him when he told them he was 16, and that was the truth. Luckily, Marv didn't seem to care.

"Which house were you in?" he asked.

"Gryffindor", Remus answered.

"Hm." Marv turned to look at the game.

"And you?"

The boy didn't answer.

"Sorry, I'll let you watch in peace", Remus said.

"I don't care about the game", Marv said and waved his hand.

"No? Then why are you here?"

Marv give him a stare. "It's the world cup. You don't miss the world cup."

Remus took a guess. "Your friends made you? Maybe someone named Tom?"

His eyes seemed to flash. "No one tells me what to do", the boy said. "And I _hate _that name."

Remus raised his hands. "Okay, sorry." So he probably wouldn't know where this Tom was. And he'd probably not get much from this kid, he'd better leave it be. He turned just in time to see one of the players dressed in purple swing the bat in one of the opposite player's head. An "oosh" went through the crowd, but the boy next to him didn't even flinch. Weird kid.

The judge didn't seem to notice the cheap trick, and the crowd started protesting. It was almost impossible to hear anything but the shouts and booing. Another boy, bigger than the first one, made his way up to them.

"Out of my way!" he said and pushed people aside. As he came closer he seemed to calm down a little. "Are you sure you don't want to watch with us, Marv?" he asked the boy. "We have great seats."

"No, Avery."

Avery shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Who's he?" he said and glared at Remus.

Now it was Marv's time to shrug.

"Hey! What's your name?" Avery said in a harsh tone.

"Me?" Remus said.

"No, the bench, moron. Yes, you."

"Remus. Lupin."

"Lupin, huh? What does your parents do?" Remus knew the question. It meant 'Are you a pureblood?'.

"My father works at the Prophet and my mother at St. Mungos. What about yours?"

Avery ignored his questions.

"You a Hufflepuff?"

"No, I'm a Gryffindor." He always felt proud saying that, even though he wasn't sure why he'd ended up there in the first place.

"Really?" Avery said, his eyes narrowed. "Well, we're Slytherin and so is this bench. Beat it."

"No, he stays", Marv said.

Avery looked confused, but he didn't argue.

"Look at that", he said instead, with a disgusted voice. "How can they let someone like that come here?"

Remus and Marv looked. Surrounded by robes of all kinds was a pretty girl in a white muggle dress. She clinged tightly to a young wizard's hand and her eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head.

"I didn't think muggles were allowed", Remus said.

"That's not a muggle. See who she's holding on to? That's her brother. She's a Squib. I can't believe they dare showing their faces here."

Remus said nothing.

"Don't you agree?" Avery asked. His hands clinged into fists.

Remus shrugged, but discreetly checked where he had his wand. "She has the same right as anyone else to be here, doesn't she?"

"No fighting", Marv said. Avery relaxed at once and looked oddly ashamed. Such a weird kid. He seemed so polite, but yet there was something that didn't fit. "You can go now, Avery."

"Are you sure?" Avery said with a look at Remus. He only got a glare as a reply. "Fine. You know where we are if you want to join us."

As Avery left, Marv rose from the bench. "Come", he said. Remus didn't even consider saying no. Although, when they left the stadium and got out in the forest again, Remus started getting suspicious.

"Where are we going?" he wanted to know. He wasn't surprised when he didn't get an answer. He was surprised though, when Marv suddenly turned around, got his wand out of the robes and pointed it at him.

"_Imperio!" _the boy said, and suddenly Remus didn't find it odd anymore. He didn't have any thoughts about anything, as a matter of fact.

"What's your name?" Marv asked. Hissed, almost.

"Remus John Lupin", Remus answered.

"How old are you?"

"16."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Tom."

Marv flinched at the name. "Tom who?"

"He who mustn't be named." Remus knew that much, at least.

"I'm telling you to give me his name. _Say it." _

Remus didn't even blink. "Lord Voldemort."

The blood disappeared from Marv's already pale face. His symmetric features looked like they were made of wax.

"Who told you that name?"

Remus tried to remember, but it was blank. Had he ever actually heard it, or just read it somewhere, or had he in fact always known? "I don't know", he answered.

"Of course you do!" The hand that held the wand started shaking. "Tell me!"

"It might have been professor Dumbledore", Remus thought. "After all, he is the only one who says the name out loud."

Marv froze. "Dumbledore? Dumbledore knows?"

"Yes", Remus said.

Black strains were falling out of his organized hairdo. Impatiently he stroked them away from his dark eyes. Remus giggled. Funny, they almost seemed red in this light.

"Who else?" he hissed. "Who else knows?"

"Everyone", Remus said. "Well, not the muggles, but everyone in our world."

Marv's eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"You're lying. _Imperio! _Tell. Me. The. Truth."

"I am", Remus said. "Everyone knows that You-know-who is rising."

"Rising?" A strange glistening awoke in Marv's gaze. "Rising, you say? Which year were you born, Lupin?"

"In 1960."

Marv's mouth turned into a smirk. "Is that so?" he said. "And how did you come here?"

"I used the Time turner around my neck."

"Give it to me."

Remus took off the chain and handed it over. The boy forgot about his hair blowing in the wind as he looked at the small golden object. Without taking his eyes off it, he asked Remus one more question.

"And when you find this man whose name is so feared no one even dares speaking it, what will you do?"

Remus somehow knew he shouldn't say it, knew he should stay quiet, pick his wand up and do something, knew this would be bad. Still, he couldn't help himself. He answered the question.

"I will kill him."

It was a strange sound. Unfitting, somehow. Wrong, even. The birds flew away; the animals on the ground ran. The boy's laugh was like the hissing of a snake.

"Good", Marv said. "Absolutely perfect. And now … _obliviate!"_


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"John!" Marv called from the other room.

"Yes?" John said and entered.

Marv was like always playing with that long stick; letting it dance between his long fingers.

"Come and take a look at this", Marv said and threw the paper to him. John caught it and read the headlines.

_Travers new chairman of Post Owl Office._

It was such a weird newspaper, because it sometimes seemed like the photos were moving. When John had told Marv he had just laughed at him and explained that he still must be suffering from that concussion.

"Is he worth my time?" Marv asked.

John nodded. He wasn't sure how he knew, he just did. Actually, he didn't know much at all, except for when Marv asked him questions. He felt so lost without him, like there was something missing in his life. Like he was meant for more than the chores at the orphanage. And somehow Marv seemed to fill that void within. Still, they'd only known each other for about a month. Before that, it was just a blank.

"And how about him?" Marv came over and pointed at another article.

_Greyback still running loose._

A weird chill went down John's back. Why? He'd never even heard of this Greyback. But now, when Marv wanted to know about him, something seemed to wake up deep, deep within John. It was still cloudy, but somehow it seemed … like he knew him. Could Greyback maybe … maybe he was a relative. Family? Someone John had known before he smashed his head in the street and forgot all about his history and previous life.

No. No, that didn't feel right. That wasn't it. But he knew that this Greyback would help Marv somehow, so he nodded again.

"Good", Marv said. "You really don't like him, do you?" he then asked John.

Was it that obvious? He knew Marv wasn't exactly the affectionate type, so John usually spared him the details of his feelings. All the weird flashbacks, the strange feeling inside when he heard dogs barking and howling, and mostly … he spared him the details of the seizures.

The agonizing pain was almost more than he could bear, like someone used a smoking hot iron glove to move around his guts, like drowning and burning up at the same time. Like nothing else he'd ever felt. There was no reason behind them; no way John could predict when they would occur. He could be lying in his bed, asleep, or doing the dishes in the kitchen. No matter where he was he would fall down into a spastic pile on the floor, drooling and screaming like an animal with rabies.

The minders thought it might have something to do with the fall, that his brain still was hurt, and with time, the seizures would stop.

The other children thought he was a dim-witted fool and stayed as far away from him as possible.

All but Marv. The children stayed away from him, too, but not because they thought he was daft, but because they actually seemed to fear him. John didn't understand why. He didn't really care, either. He and Marv were just misunderstood, different from the others.

John shook his head. No, he didn't like this Greyback. If he only could remember why.

There was a knock on the door.

"Not now, Martha", Marv said, annoyed.

The door opened. It wasn't Martha.

"Poor Martha had to be sent to bed, crying", Mrs. Cole said. John could smell the whisky in her breath. "But I won't take no for an answer, Tom. Kitchen. Now. And I want it done before nightfall."

Mrs. Cole was the only one who got away with calling Marv Tom. It was Marv, or nothing. Most people chose nothing.

Marv gritted his teeth, but he didn't say anything. He just looked at her, and played with the stick as he walked pass her.

"And leave that silly thing", she said and pointed with a crooked finger at the stick.

"Fine", Marv said in a low voice. "Now, leave my room. I'll be down in a minute."

Mrs. Cole seemed like she wanted to object, but left the room with a grunt. No one objected Marv.

"We'll soon be out of here", John said when she was gone. "And then we don't have to put up with them anymore."

"Yes. You're right", Marv answered after a while. "Just one year … And thanks to you, John, things will go much smoother."

That was the closet thing Marv would ever get to show how he felt. John, on the other hand, really wanted Marv to know how grateful he was.

"I … I don't know what I would have done without you."

John took a quick glimpse of Marv, who didn't say anything. There was something in his eyes, something John had never seen before. A sadness, a longing, almost. John wanted to go over to him, hug him, tell him everything would work out.

But before he could decide if it was worth the risk, Marv spoke.

"Don't be such a sissy. For me, I would manage just fine without you." He went over to his closet and pulled out a box. "Now, leave my room before you have another one of your stupid seizures." He mumbled something before he put the stick down.

There was no time, though. The moment Marv finished talking, the pain took over. John fell down on his knees, his mouth open in a silent cry. He wanted to scratch his eyes out, to smash his head in the wall, to pour his inside out on the floor, to make it stop and never have to live through this one more time.

John couldn't see Marv, but he heard him leave without a word. As the door closed, the pain started to go away. He still couldn't move, though.

He was hyperventilating and he had to calm down. He knew he couldn't still be in here when Marv returned. He shouldn't have said anything, he knew that. Maybe these seizures were some sort of punish from God, for being so annoying and in the way.

He rose slowly, trying to avoid a head rush. The sun was almost down, and he could see the top of moon, on its way of trading places with its brighter sibling. He looked away. For some reason, he feared the night and the dark, just like a little child.

His gaze fell upon the box, not in the closet but on Marv's desk. A strange urge woke in him. He knew he was being silly, probably still all shook up by the seizure, but it felt like that box held the answers to his problems. Like everything would fall back to place if he looked inside it.

It was a stupid silly thought, but he couldn't get it out of his head. He looked over his shoulders. Marv wouldn't be done for at least another twenty minutes, since the porridge probably was etched into the plates by now.

As the moon slowly climbed the sky and the orange and warm light was replaced by a cold silver one, John opened the box.

A comb, a dusty old yoyo, a lighter, the precious stick, another one almost just like it. It was a sad collection. Apart from the golden hour glass hanging in a thin chain.

It belonged to him.

How could he know that? It was not a memory but a feeling deep within. The sand within glittered in the moonlight.

"Put it down."

John almost crushed the hourglass in his hand. "You took this from me, didn't you?"

Marv didn't answer. "Put it down, and give me the box."

"No." John turned around and faced Marv. "Not until you tell me what you know."

Every human resemblance disappeared from Marv's face. He no longer looked like the handsome boy John had gotten to know, but a ghost, a phantom. A monster.

"Do as I say_. Give me the box."_

You didn't turn a voice like that down; you did as it told you. John reached out his hand, with the box placed on his palm. Marv snatched his precious stick and pointed it at John.

"You'll be of no more use to me", he said. His eyes were burning, his fingers clutched to the narrow stick.

The moon continued its climb, its round, full face not able to care less about what was going on far, far underneath it. The silver shine poured through the window like water, and drenched the room.

Marv smiled. "Let the play begin. Avada …"

John could feel the pain again, and fell down to his knees once more. Only, this time, the pain didn't consume him from within. Instead, it felt like he was growing way too fast, way too out of control. And somehow, he was pushed to a dark corner within himself, feeling something else taking over. The last thing he saw was the fear in Marv's eyes. He actually felt sorry for him.

"… ke-kedavra!"

He still held the golden hour glass in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

"Bloody hell, Moony, you look like crap."

Remus's head was pounding, his heart racing, and even though it was at least three weeks until the next full moon, he could feel the wolf growling within.

"What are you doing down on the floor anyway?"

James and Sirius towered up above him, looking like giants.

"I … I don't know", he stuttered, trying to remember.

"A little early for a nap, don't you think?" Sirius laughed, while James reached down his hand and helped Remus up.

"Seriously, I've never seen you look this worn out, not even after your furry little problem", James said. "What the hell have you been up to?"

"I really can't recall", Remus said and put his hands to his face. This was the worst headache he'd ever had.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been playing with age potion", Sirius laughed.

"Or having some fun down at the three broomsticks", James grinned. "Too many Butterbeers, ey? Next time, you should tell us, and we'll help you drink it up."

Remus grinned back, but he couldn't get rid of this feeling that he was missing out on something important.

Had he turned even though there was no moon? Was that possible? But the room looked intact, and no one had gotten hurt … he must just have fallen and hit his head in the bed post. Yes, that had to be it.

"I'm starving", he said.

"Well, luckily, we're heading down to the Great Hall right now", Sirius said.

"Are you sure you're okay, though? Maybe you should go to the hospital wing?" James wondered.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just need something to eat and I'll be fine. Chocolate, maybe."

"You're such a girl, you know that, Moony?" Sirius said as they left the boys' dorm room.

Underneath the bed, the Time turner stopped spinning.


End file.
